


Pretence

by HaruShira (LovingPillow)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:21:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 19,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovingPillow/pseuds/HaruShira
Summary: [Snippets in non-chronological order] It was the way they were because it had to be done, and he was starting to regret ever turning back time—especially so because it was with that girl.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really just writing this for my amusement 'cause I'm interested in the world I'm imagining them in, so if you're here because of some grand or small plot based on the summary—well, I'm here to disappoint you. Anyway, there'll be a lot of guesswork since the chapters aren't in chronological order, so have fun, try not to scrape your scalp, and best of luck to those who do stick around!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

"I can't believe Snivellus got himself a girl—"

"Who is she anyway?"

"That's Granger—tied with Evans for smartest witch in our year, and she's a bloody Hufflepuff."

"When'd they get together? I've never seen them interact."

"Hell if I know, but so long as he's away from Evans, I could care less!"

"So you're still hung up about them Prongs? Just how much does he bother you that you could care  _less_?"

"Shut up Padfoot, you know what I mean."

"Oh look! Evans is walking this way, so look smart Prongs!"

"I am smart you git—I just don't show it."

"Whatever makes you float, but here she comes!"

"Hello Evans, lovely day today, wouldn't you agree?" James asked as he ran his hand through his hair. Glancing straight into her eyes, he felt himself smile.  _Merlin she looks brilliant_ , he thought as her eyes flashed in annoyance because he'd chosen to speak to her while she was just trying to get by.

"It certainly would be lovely without your ugly face in the picture," Lily quipped back—she wasn't above cutting him down a peg or two (possibly three) if he responded the way she hoped he would respond with.

"Don't you mean Snivellus' ugly face?" Sirius piped up as he gesturing wildly to the Slytherpuff couple reading some book under a tree.

Mouth open in a gape, Lily blinked in disbelief. "Sev?" she muttered—just trying to make sense of reality as she watched the way his fingers curled around the girl's hair, and she daren't look away when he dragged her down to rest her head on his lap—it was just— _no way._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

"You know—your hair isn't as greasy as it was when you'd been teaching," Hermione pointed out as she squinted her eyes.

Severus gave her the look as he sighed, "Must you be insufferable?" he drawled as he propped himself on one palm, and entangled the other against the curls she called hair.

"Seven years and you haven't gotten used to it?" Hermione feigned surprise as she raised her brow at his drawn-out sigh.

"Albus better believe this works or I'll hex him to death if it doesn—"

"Would you watch it? My scalp's gonna fall off at this rate—" Hermione interrupted as she raised her arm high to remove his fingers from her hair, but she didn't get that far.

Leaning down, Severus hid their faces behind his long strands of hair—baring his teeth at her, he narrowed his eyes and smirked when she returned the same look.

"That's not very nice, you do realize, right?" she huffed as she laid on his lap—he still hadn't let go of her hair or her scalp.

"I've never claimed to be nice," Severus drawled as he clearly found her unamusing.

On the outside looking in, they looked just like any other couple, and that was the entire point of their act—with their close proximity, nobody would question the distance they had (though there would be questions, but nothing too deep that would make me have to reveal things they did not want revealed).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

"This is how you wanted it to go, was I right?" Severus asked as he looked down—their foreheads pressed against each other as he watched her for her tells.

Hermione frowned as she lifted her head, "Shut up Sev," she mumbled and whispered her demand.

"Insufferable," he shot back, but still he gave in. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to resist,  but she brushed her fingers against his unmarked skin, and he soaked in the warmth as her fingers spread against the back of his neck—arousal steadily pooling down and up all through his veins.

Right before he claimed her soul, she whispered against his lips.

Though they would never say it aloud in front of a crowd—as long as they understood each other, then all was swell.

Her laughter filled the air when their magic finally settled down, and now that it was all said and done, they left the venue to claim each other as their honeymoon prize.

Who knew that a time-turner would act as their catalyst for becoming more than just partners in crime?

 

-

 

Back in the future, the portrait of Headmaster Dumbledore chuckled with pride.

The future wasn't fixed in this time, but in another time—time realigned, and it took all of his control to not rub his robe sleeves right against his watery eye.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

"Do you still love her?" Hermione asked one night while they were down in the kitchen.

"Do you still love him?" Severus returned after a moment's stretch of pure silence—they both knew the answer.

Her silence was telling and he shifted in his seat to hold her closer. After all, anybody could walk into the kitchen at any time, so they were still putting up a front for the others.

"It was only infatuation," she told herself as she hogged all the warmth from his embrace.

"Infatuation," he agreed, but they both knew it couldn't possibly be.

Severus remained in love with Lily—just the same way Hermione remained in love with Ron.

This? It was all an act to get their plans moving.

And Hermione hugged his robes to her chin as his arms pulled her closer within.

They would lie to each other.

They would lie to themselves.

They would lie to all others.

And neither of them could tell.

They were here for a reason—all else would be pushed aside and put down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

It was really unfair because Hermione loved the comforting feel of being safe—surrounded by the warmth of a hug, and what she felt with his arms holding her—well, it really wasn't fair.

She simply thought she could stay right there. _Who knew the professor could give really good hugs?_  she mused to herself as he held her close.

Headmaster Dumbledore had no control over them, but she couldn't help but thank him for the idea—even if the wizard was just a painting.

"Miss Granger."

 _Oh—his voice makes me want to melt_ , she thought as she stared at the door opposite of them.

"Are you ready?" Severus Snape asked of her.

When no response came, he reached up to start turning the clock, and only then did she snap out of her shock.

It hadn't bugged her then how close he was to her, but now that she was aware of how close they really were—well, it was simply difficult reigning her blush in because she really didn't have a say in her reactions and feelings.

"As soon as we're back, we'll take the de-aging potion," Severus murmured.

Hermione felt his breath puff against the back of her neck, and it honestly was rather uncomfortable, but it just as much lit a fuse within her.

Dumbledore watched from his painting while his eyes twinkled with delight—here was the beginning of a wonderful friendship (one that would come to fruition), and he bore witness as the very first one.

With a ticking whirl, the two disappeared from his office, and somewhere in his memories, he knew that they'd returned safely to one of the pasts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

"Granger, Hermione."

 _Ah—indeed,_ the hat murmured in her head,  _I see—I understand._

Hermione could feel it actively shift around in her head.

 _The future's unclear, you must know that_ , the hat warned before bellowing her house, and she hadn't the time to respond before she headed over to her new house.

Cheers rang through the hall as the House of Hufflepuff gained another new badger.

 _Sure the future may be unclear,_ she mused as she smiled at new faces, _but we returned to make it clear—he'll be stopped, that I had vowed_ , she thought as she sat down.

Across the hall Severus stood in wait for his turn—it was now or never because they would never return (their time was fractured, far too gone, and entirely messed up).

Pushing back his bangs, he chanced a glance over to Lily who smiled encouragingly at him from the table of the reds, and for the first time—he knew what he had to do, so he promised himself he wouldn't fall, and he promised himself that he'd stand tall, so there was no reason he'd fall for the losing side when he'd follow the winning side of the wizarding war.

"Snape, Severus."

Although the House of Slytherin gained another new snake, he wouldn't make the same mistake—not when he'd been given his third and final last chance. There was no way he'd waste all the knowledge he had.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

Severus was hanging out with Lily when Hermione popped into the corner of his eye, and he narrowed his eyes at the robes she donned because seven years of seeing her in red, and now he had to see her in yellow—it definitely was going to take some time before he adjusted to the unfamiliar sight.

Lily pursed her lips as she turned to look at what was so interesting because what could catch Severus' attention so much that he'd stop listening to her? Honestly speaking, she saw nothing worth seeing— _just some Hufflepuffs walking together_ , she thought before she turned back to snap her fingers before his face.

 _Bloody Hufflepuff_ , Severus grumbled as his mouth contorted. It was unusual to think that way—much less say because he couldn't call her a Gryffindor anymore since the Sorting Hat sorted her into Hufflepuff.

 _Bloody Hufflepuff_ , he repeated to get used to cursing her in her new house.

Lily could see that she was going nowhere with Severus because he was all lost in his thoughts, so she sighed, shook her head, and looked out to the Great Lake as she sat down.

It was their first week at Hogwarts, and she couldn't see how it'd get any better than now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

Her eyes met his—he shook his head.

She raised her brow—he gave her an empty look.

She smirked his smirk—he raised his brow.

From the Gryffindor table, Lily felt as though she was intruding on something private even though the two were conversing for the entire Great Hall to see.

 _Since when did Sev make friends outside of me?_  she wondered, and for just one second she felt really lonely—even though she was making friends left and right, she felt as though Severus was leaving her and their friendship behind. It hurt to think that he was growing up without her, but it did make sense that somebody would look past his unwelcoming charm and want to become friends with him—that didn't mean she'd have to like it, but she was happy for Severus even if she couldn't spare him a smile.

As she tuned back into the conversation she'd stopped paying attention to upon being distracted by the Hufflepuff making faces at her childhood friend, she bopped her head and smiled at the right time to let her friends know that she was paying attention to the tales being told.

Across the hall Hermione stuck her tongue out at her old professor—they were the same age now, and the both of them were students, so she really couldn't call him her professor anymore, now could she?

"Granger? Who're you sticking your tongue out to?" her housemate asked as the girl nudged her aside to peer outright at the direction she'd been facing.

Wide-eyed, Hermione couldn't help but feel her cheeks heat up at being caught—there was no reason to feel embarrassed, was there? After all, it wasn't like they would know she was sticking her tongue out to Severus, right?

With a smirk, Severus feigned ignorance as he returned to eating his sprouts. It was silly and childish of him to participate in such childish acts, but the bloody Gryffindor— _Hufflepuff, bloody Hufflepuff_ —had managed to drag him into the game with her poor skills of imitating at the drop of a tea. He observed over his goblet as her housemate scanned the Great Hall with exaggerated movements, and noticed how she skipped the House of the Slytherins entirely.

It was, after all, unimaginable for a Hufflepuff to be friendly with a Slytherin. Even in their time—hanging out with a Slytherin on friendly terms was a rare sight, but it wasn't impossible to find. He had, after all, consulted several of his students about their alliance with the other three houses—it did momentarily surprise him how adamant his past students were about being  _friends_ with the other houses instead of forming allies. People you could benefit from and ally with, he could understand, but friends? It was a term rarely used for their house, and especially now—now that they returned to the past.

He remembered most of how he spent his time in the Slytherin's House.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when her housemate finally sat down—the girl was seemingly dejected for not finding the person on the other end, and Hermione couldn't help but chance a glance towards her—her what?  _Classmate?_ she tried it out, but it didn't feel right. In fact, it felt weird. Even though she signed herself up, she still found the whole ordeal weird. She'd been promised a future that would change, and now? She'd already been here for a year, but sitting here—sitting at the Hufflepuff table—well, it still felt weird.

To her, she would always be in the Gryffindor House. Even if she wasn't sitting at her old table. Even if she wasn't wearing the robes adorned with the lion's badge. Hermione Granger would never forget her first house.

It went without saying that they were both lost in memory, and remembering was the only way they were going to get through time without breaking down. They came from the year 1998, but they would never return to it—not the one they remembered because it was too fractured for them to return.

Both looked up, and they slowly exchanged nods— _Voldemort will be stopped_ —it was a promise and they didn't have to know how to read minds to realize what the other expressed as their faces were lit in pure determination.

The wizarding world would have to watch out because the two of them weren't going out until they brought the upcoming dark lord down.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

"Must you really?" Severus sighed as he was pulled to the corner of the bar.

"Well—you're in a strop, so you'll want something to drink," Hermione explained before she called for the strongest thing they had in the shop.

"I'm not in a strop," Severus denied as he batted her hand away when it reached for his face. Just because he didn't smile like she did all the time didn't mean he was in a strop.

"You so are," Hermione snorted as she patted his cheek—here she was laughing with her old professor, even though they were now the same age, and even though she was alone on the laughing spectrum, it just felt right.

Severus nursed his drink in his hand as he glared at the newcomer leering at his partner in crime.

"Can I get the lovely lady another drink?" the man asked as he slid into the seat behind Hermione.

"She's taken." Severus wasn't going to be left alone in this miserable place, and if he was going to be miserable, then she had to be miserable with him.

Nobody would have been more surprised than he when she plopped herself onto his lap—her grin growing wide as she nursed her drink in her hand while the other played with the small strands against his neck—though he didn't show any of it on his face.

"Yep—taken," Hermione agreed as she smiled up at the older student who'd turned to gaping incredulously.

Severus' arm easily held her still against him as he raised his glass to take a slow sip—he kept his eye on the man turning red as he slowly raised his brow in a clear challenge. Only when the man left did he shake his head and remove his arm from her waist.

Hermione couldn't help but snort at his expression before she covered her mouth to hold her drink in with a snicker.

"Well, well, well—if it isn't Snivellus, and who's the unlucky girl?"

The Marauders had apparently spotted Severus from wherever they'd been and they just couldn't get away.

"I wouldn't call her unlucky, Black," Severus corrected—because really, he was the unlucky one, didn't everyone know that?

Hermione's shoulders shook as she muffled her laughter. Images of misfortune collected over the years of Ron, her, and Harry filled her mind's space.

It wasn't like she knew how to read minds, but Severus was doing something—whatever it was was allowing her to bask in his memories of their timelime.

From afar, Lily noticed how the Marauders were huddled up at the bar. She couldn't help but freeze at the sight of the Hufflepuff girl ( _Hermione, I know her name, so use it_ ) hanging all over Severus, and it just didn't make sense to her because it was Severus.

Sirius took a step forth as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion of Snivellus using a love potion to get laid, but he wasn't going to call the slimy git out—especially since the snake would never get to shag in his life without the help of some potions.

Remus, on the other hand, furrowed his brows and squinted down at the Hufflepuff. "Hermione, what are you doing with Snape?" he asked—genuinely curious because he'd been sure that their friendship wasn't an actual thing.

Sighing, Hermione lifted her head from Severus' neck. As she opened her mouth to answer, she heard him snort before he burrowed his head into her neck—clearly, he was becoming annoyed at the entire thing. "Well," she mused aloud, "he's my friend." And with a smile, she lifted her hand and tugged lightly on Severus' ear—even if it was completely called for, he was still being rude.

James squawked, "Friend?" he parroted, "You're friends with Snivellus?" he asked in utter bewilderment.

Hermione simply smiled in response, and Severus' shoulders shook with laughter while he tugged her closer—she honestly didn't mind the close contact, and got herself comfortable before taking a sip of her almost-forgotten drink.

"We'll uh—leave you two alone," James grumbled as he was utterly befuddled—he'd always thought that he'd had a rival in Snape, but seeing him with another girl cozying up to him didn't seem to make any sense, so he figured he'd leave before everything else started to make no sense.

When the Marauders left, the rest of the night was spent with Severus shoving past memories into Hermione's head, and Hermione simply basking in the time (mostly) well-spent.

Even though she'd never get her best friends back (they were well and truly gone), she would always remember. They'd certainly live in this time, but they wouldn't be the same Harry and Ron she'd grown with—it didn't matter as much as she thought it would because she still had Severus.

And nobody questioned why Hogwarts hosted a rather Muggle party—the fewer the questions asked, the more they all could get away with certain acts.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

It was easy for the Slytherins to dismiss her because she was a Hufflepuff—the snakes didn't like her, but they didn't mind her either, so it certainly made things easier for them to meet.

"I'm still a Gryffindor on the inside," she mentioned on a Saturday morning just a week into adapting to her new life.

Severus sighed as he put the Charms textbook down on his lap, "There is no doubt, Miss Granger."

Absolutely no one was out this early, especially during the weekend, and she brightened up with the wave of her wand as her yellow robes were taken over by red.

"Foolish lion," Severus drawled, but it didn't have the same effect as his older self because his voice had yet to change. The both of them, however, could hear the echo of the voice he'd meant to use because they still clung to the parts of their past.

"I'll change back as soon as somebody else comes," was Hermione's retort as she basked beneath the sun's rays—her partner had melded with the shadows, and they'd sat on opposite ends of the tree.

Their books were strewn out and around the place, and though it should've unnerved them because of how messy they were, they didn't seem to mind the mess for the day.

 

-

 

It had been quite odd how quickly she'd adapted to her new ID, but the only difference really was the house she'd been sorted into—everything else didn't need to change.

"Why didn't you react harshly when Draco called you a slur?"

"I think you're misunderstanding things, Severus. When he first called me that slur, I didn't understand what it meant. I had to look it up in order to realize that he'd called me a name meant to dissuade muggle-borns from feeling accepted in that missing part of their worlds. But by then I've been called so many things that I just let it roll off. It still makes me question myself when I hear someone call me that word, but I'd learned to move through it like the other names I'd been called. You know, don't you—when the war was over, he apologized for all the things he'd said and done. If I weren't in my right mind, I would've slammed the door shut in his face and called it a day, but I accepted his apology even though it wasn't easy."

_"Then why won't Lily forgive me?"_

A sad smile it upon her face as she shifted back to stare out at the Black Lake. "Harry once showed me a picture of his mother, and I thought she was pretty much perfect. She was pretty, and from the tales I'd heard from Remus and Sirius, it didn't seem like she'd ever been truly bullied. Plus, I suspect she has a huge number of schoolboys just falling for her."

A snort escaped him as his sound of affirmative.

"I really can't say that she'll forgive you this time around, but we're here to make things change, aren't we? So why don't we fix your relationship among the other things?"

Silence was her only answer, and she only looked back when sometime later the Giant Squid surfaced to wave hi.

Severus had nodded off to sleep within the shades, and she couldn't help but wonder if he'd heard what she said, or would she have to say it again?

 

-

 

Still, a scarlet and gold Hufflepuff crest looked rather odd since all she could do was change the colour scheme of her robes. She really did miss being in Gryffindor, but that was then, and this is now.

Hermione Granger: proud badger of Hufflepuff House.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

They were hanging out with Lupin, not that he wanted to because he didn't want to share the table with the bloody wolf—but he wasn't going to leave just because the damn Gryffindor had waltzed up to their table and took a seat for himself. No, he wasn't going to leave unless the other decided to leave himself.

"Severus, be nice," Hermione whispered as she held open the book near his arm which was on the furthest side of her reach just so she could speak.

Severus scoffed beneath his breath before he stopped glaring daggers at the unwanted occupant of their table—only to bore daggers into the book he held up as he imagined burning a hole through the pages and straight through the wolf.

Remus had known that his presence wasn't wanted considering the animosity between his best mates and Snape, but he had a project to work on with Hermione, so he wasn't going to go away. There was just one thing he didn't quite understand—why was Lily's childhood friend sitting with his project partner anyway? Also, everyone in the building knew that Lily was searching for Snape (but it was mostly so she would avoid James).

 _Well, you can't have everything nice in life,_ Hermione thought as she rolled her eyes before turning to Remus with a smile, and just like that they delved into their project leaving Severus to scowl and hide behind the cover of reading his book.

 

-

 

"Are you done?" Severus asked as he broke through the silence that had surrounded the three of them as they sat.

Hermione shook her head with a low hum, and then she looked up. "Not yet, but do you mind grabbing us some food to eat? I'm starting to get hungry."

"Does that include Lupin?" Severus asked as his nose scrunched up.

The two looked at him—one shining bright and wide while the other shone in a wary sort of sigh—before Hermione bopped her head with a smile.

 

-

 

Vani seemed to know exactly what they needed the second he entered the kitchen, so all he had to do was wait.

She'd given him a basket to place all of the food in, and he'd shrunk it down to hide it in his satchel—it wouldn't do for others to discover he was bringing food out of the kitchen, and when he returned to the library, he couldn't help but scowl.

Lily had stolen his seat, so now he had to sit beside Lupin, but he quickly composed himself as the trio turned to him.

"I hope you brought enough for another mouth to feed," Hermione exclaimed with a whisper, and he took out the shrunken basket to unshrink it in front of Remus.

"Severus?"

"Lily."

"Now, now—don't be awkward when you two are childhood friends—aren't you?" Hermione chirped as she stood up to grab the napkins from the basket. As she set them out, she gestured for Severus to serve them because she had short arms and he was closer.

Severus didn't deign her a response, but he did serve them equal portions—whatever the house-elves had given him had (apparently) accounted for the right amount of mouths to feed.

"Are we even allowed to eat in the library?" Lily asked as she looked around their spot in the library for the sign of the librarian.

Hermione waved her concerns away as she picked up her dinner, "As long as Mr. Dewberry doesn't see us make a mess, then it's alright to eat in here." After all, she'd seen the man eat in the library many times whenever she returned the books she borrowed over the year. He'd mentioned that eating was fine as long as they cleaned up their mess, and the books (apparently) were spelled to be cleaned of all sorts of mess, so now that they were in the clear, Hermione couldn't help but find it quite odd how the librarian in her time had never mentioned the spells.

Madam Pince would claim that they weren't allowed to bring in food and drinks (not even water) in the library, so maybe she just didn't know about the spell? _That could be a possibility,_ Hermione mused as she chowed down on her meal.

Remus gulped loudly as he looked away from the trio, and his cheeks burned with invisible blush as he swallowed his food. "So Hermione—I thought you were a stickler for rules? You seem to be the type," he couldn't help but mention as he hid behind his sandwich—the smell of roast beef, surprisingly, didn't seem to be attracting anyone.

Hermione bit into her meal before she covered her mouth to hum loudly. She certainly used to be a stickler for rules, but over the years with Harry, Ron, and much of the Weasley family, she'd grown to abhor certain rules—it'd become her thing to find loopholes around the rules just so she'd know what she could get away with.

The four left her non-answer be.

Lily, who'd joined the two had stayed only because the Hufflepuff had mentioned that Severus would be coming back soon. Now though? She didn't really know why she didn't just leave, but she did actually know because if she left now, then she wouldn't be able to hang out with Severus (that boy had been avoiding her ever since she'd been sorted into Gryffindor, and he into Slytherin, so she didn't want their houses to tear their friendship apart like she heard it do to other pairs of friends).

Dinner passed by in crunches and munches as Lily directed a couple of glances towards her Slytherin friend, and nobody was harmed verbally, mentally, or physically.

When the table was cleared and everything stored inside the basket, Lily offered to return the basket with Severus, but it was gone as quick as the blink of her eye (she knew she had to be gaping in astonishment) because it had up and disappeared from the table without a word.

Severus didn't even bat an eyelash as he told her it was taken care of, and then he reached out for the nearest book, flipped it open, and ignored everyone to read.

Lily continued to stare at the spot that once housed a basket, but her focus turned to Hermione when the Hufflepuff waved her hand in front of her face. "You can stay here and read while Remus and I continue working on our project," Hermione pointed out as she nodded towards the books they'd discarded over the hours they'd been holed up in the library.

They didn't have a use for the books, and Severus had read most of them, so they really didn't need to keep them on their table, but she wanted to include Lily in their group (even though it wasn't a group) because it wouldn't feel right to exclude her when the girl wanted to patch things up with Severus.

"Uh—sure, alright then," Lily muttered before she grabbed a random book from the pile. Slowly, but surely, she lost herself in the words, but every now and then she'd peer up from her page to glance at the three.

 

-

 

It didn't take long before the library had to be closed, and the four put the books away before they were kicked out by Mr. Dewberry.

Remus and Hermione managed to get more than half of their project out of their way, so they promised to meet at the library first thing in the morning—that left Severus and Lily standing beside each other, and the both of them didn't know what to say while the former duo discussed what they might work on tomorrow.

Help came in the form of Hermione waving good-bye to Remus, and when she turned around, she smiled at Lily and mentioned how she should be heading back to the Gryffindor Tower with Remus.

" _Subtle_ ," Severus mentioned when the two vanished behind the corner, and he fell into place by Hermione's side as she headed down the hall towards the Hufflepuff Basement.

"Mmhm—you do realize I'm more than capable of walking myself back, right?" Hermione hummed as she stared quizzically at the other. It was still odd to think of him as her classmate when he'd been her professor for seven years (and well, who's counting?) so she couldn't afford to slip up. To not forget, she'd call him Severus aloud and in her head, otherwise she'd revert back to calling him as Professor Snape, _and Merlin wouldn't that be a thing?_

No reply came from the Slytherin, but he matched her pace.

Though they hadn't worked on the whole take-down-Voldemort thing, they still made progress.

Voldemort wouldn't know what hit him until it hit him, and Hermione couldn't wait for that day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

The moment was here, and for once, Hermione felt that she could understand the rage and embarrassment Severus had felt from letting everyone see his pants while he hung upside down.

This one moment of time had acted as the catalyst for everything that'd go wrong in his life—so if she could help it, it wouldn't wreck his life. It was all she could do to make sure he didn't wind up becoming a recruitment target because they already had their eyes on him, and if his friendship with Lily was broken in that humiliating display, then they'd seek him out with words of aggression leaked in with persuasion.

She'd be damned if she let the past run as it had. Even though she was mortified by being upside down—flashing her knickers while people gathered around—she couldn't help but thank Merlin that she switched places at the right time.

"Hermione, you stupid bloody fool—we discussed this before," Severus grumbled as he dove for his wand, but by his miserable luck it had been picked up by Sirius not long after James disarmed both of their wands.

"Ha! A friend of Snivellus is an enemy of ours, so keep her up there Prongs!" Sirius mockingly laughed as he stepped aside when Severus made a reach for his wand.

Hermione shut her eyes as she heard people all around her talk. It was ridiculous because no one was trying to hide their laughter as she was humiliated in the public's eye, and she wondered just why she ever thought of Sirius (of James even) as a good person back when he'd been alive. Azkaban had to have done a number on him—that was the only reason she could think for his change in maturity.

"James—stop this," Remus called out, but his words went in through one ear and out the other because James stopped listening to him after he found out that one of his best mates would willingly be seen hanging around the bloody 'puff and the jealous slimeball called Snivellus.

 _How long have I been hanging upside down? My head feels really light_ , Hermione thought as her head bopped and swayed.

Severus scowled as he rushed at Sirius to get his wand back, and he nearly grabbed it—until a shout from behind had the teen pulling back in surprise.

"Perverts! Bullies! I'm reporting you to Headmaster Dumbledore!"

 _That sounds like Lily—oh Merlin, did our plans fall to pieces because I replaced Severus?_  Hermione wondered as her eyes popped open, but she never got a clear answer because the next thing she knew was that she was flung through the air and knocked unconscious.

James, apparently, had been startled terribly by the voice of his crush, so he'd lost control of his wand. The connection to the Hufflepuff had snapped as soon as she crashed against the tree, and he took a step closer to Sirius when she rolled into the Black Lake.

Severus cursed as loud as he could as he snatched his wand right out from a frozen Sirius Black, and proceeded to cast the bubblehead charm on himself before he dove into the lake.  _Stupid girl!_  he berated as he swam down.

Not long after Lily's threat, the Professors and the Headmaster showed up. Some of the Ravenclaws had gone to fetch the heads of each house because they weren't quite sure who they should fetch, but it was a good thing they convinced all of them to head out because it was more serious than the situation they'd seen.

"Just what is going on here?" Pomona asked as Horace frowned from beside her.

The bystanders shuffled about as Lily stepped up with James' ear gripped harshly between her fingers. "Professor Sprout, James Potter and his group—not including Remus—decided it'd be hilarious to humiliate a student for being friends with another student. He lost control of his wand, and I don't know if the students involved are safe, but they're both under the lake, and one of them has lost all consciousness," she reported with her scowl as she tightened her grip.

James had no choice but to bear the pain.

Points were taken away. Detentions were assigned. Warnings were told in stern disappointed ways. But still, the surface of the lake remained calm and relatively safe.

Albus held onto James' shoulder as he stared into the lake, and he didn't dare to look away. "Mr. Potter, if either student returns unsafe—you will be expelled along with whoever else was involved in their fate."

From the side, Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but he kept his mouth shut when James shook his head and grit his teeth. He'd dug them into this mess, and he wasn't going to risk digging them any deeper than they'd already dug up.

When an hour passed, the majority of the student body returned inside the castle because there wasn't anything interesting to see or to spread, and it was then that Severus shot out of the Black Lake—Hermione in his arms as dead weight.

The professors all moved as soon as he landed on the grass, and Horace gestured for Severus to put her down. "We'll bring her to Madam Pomfrey," he announced.

Severus refused to move though, so Filius had to levitate the two all the way to the Hospital Wing.

James and Sirius hadn't learnt their lesson that evening, but in the far, far future, there'd be a day that they would.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

Horace knew he had to invite the girl as well because his rising-in-talent star student wouldn't consider the idea of joining his club—not unless his little Hufflepuff friend joined him, and really, what did she honestly have?

It was a deal since he needed Severus in his infamous club.

Comprised of promising students—when they make a name for themselves, he'd return to the spotlight because of their connection with his club.

Simply put, he wanted that connection.

"Wonderful of you to come, Severus—please take a seat and we'll begin shortly," Horace announced as he rested his palm on the other's shoulder—on his lips he presented a wide smile that would soon fall flat. He would've closed the door behind him had he not been reminded so soon of the condition his talented student set up in exchange for joining his wondrous meetings.

"Ah yes—Miss Granger, welcome, do come in," Horace greeted as he slowly pulled the door closer to his shoulder—there was just enough space for her to slip in behind Severus, but if she wasn't comfortable, he'd allow her to skip their meeting because he couldn't have his students being uncomfortable, now could he?

"Thank you, Professor Slughorn," was her response.

From the door he glowered at her as she followed his best potions student to a seat far away from where he wanted Severus to be sat. It was his thing—he wanted the more promising students to sit closer to him because he'd stay in contact with them. With that little girl tagging along, however, his plans were heading down the pipes and he really wasn't looking forward to any of that.

 _Curse Miss Granger for befriending Severus._ With an inward huff, he returned to opening the door upon his special alert of another student arriving at his door. Satisfied, his lips curl in pleasure. "How wonderful of you to join us, my dear Lucius—come in and take a seat. We were just waiting for you," he mentioned, and once everyone was seated—called for the Slug Club meeting of 1976 to begin.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

Peter Pettigrew was a rat—it was as simple as that.

Hermione knew. Severus knew. Everyone involved in the know-how knew that his animagus form was a rat, but the two of them weren't referring to that.

Peter had grown into a rat due to his hate, and it was this hate that led him to join the side most wizards and witches feared with hate.

Hermione's goal (because Severus didn't care about Pettigrew's fate) was to stop that wheel from turning, though she didn't need to stop it today.

If Peter didn't see their memories tonight, then there'd be no doubt that he'd end up joining with Voldemort, so they stole him away and made sure he remained asleep as they levitated him away.

Sometimes, it was a wonder the passwords didn't change because they really were just on rotate.

When she walked back and forth calling for the room she needed, she ignored her partner to repeat her request in haste.

"And where did you get that Pensieve, Miss Granger?" Severus asked as he turned the knob and swung open the door.

"—I believe it's the room letting us borrow Headmaster Dumbledore's Pensieve, Professor Snape."

Severus' lips curled in vindictive satisfaction as he put a stopper over his need to bellow in laughter—not that he would, but the point still stood considering how much he'd been wanting to tempt fate.

"In we go," Hermione muttered as she pulled their captive inside the room, and soon they had him strapped to a chair as they covered his eyes.

Within moments the duo had their memories siphoned into the Pensieve, and with a count of one-two-three, they woke the Gryffindor up then shoved his head down inside.

They'd obliviate him afterwards, but he'd remember the terror and horror—he wouldn't know why, but all he needed to avoid was straying from the winning side, and the winning side didn't involve joining Voldemort's side.

After they dropped him off in the Gryffindor Common Room, they headed down to their respective halls.

"I think it went well," Hermione mused as they stood at the separation point.

"Well?" Severus drawled, "Your view appalls me, Miss Granger, if you believe that was well." But he would concede that it did work splendidly—much better than a simple that went well.

In the morning, Peter would discover a newfound appreciation for his mates, but if anybody asked, he wouldn't know why—it was a feeling like enjoying the cool breeze on a hot summer day.

He remembered how he‘d hated them—when they’d thought him weak among other things—but now though? Apparently, he didn't mind them as much as he did before.

It wouldn't be until much, much later that Peter would realize the truth, but by then he'd be able to laugh, forgive, and then forget—it wouldn't do for him to dwell on things that happened so long ago, and he’d be much better off not thinking about the past.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

It was the first change Remus was going to experience without his unusual companions, and he couldn't wait even though Remus was feeling apprehensive about their change.

They'd been given detention, but because of their month-long fate, detention had to happen at another time and another place.

As the moon rose high into the sky, the trees surrounding them grew still and their bones cracked to allow them to change. More—more—more—Remus was restrained.

Under the full moon, he howled in his long-awaited moment to play.

They'd gone through this before—Remus wouldn't have a say in anything because he'd be locked away under key and under chain.

Oh the joy of freedom—what he could do, what he would do—go on hunts, kill his friends, kill his foes, and do all the boy wouldn't do. Remus wouldn't have a say—not when he'd be backed so far away (deep into the recesses of their mind where he remained in a hazy daze).

It helped that he enjoyed being labelled a mindless killing machine—it was something he'd heard the rat chitter about when they'd gone chasing the stag. Remus had been hurt, but they both knew it certainly fit because they did kill, and kill they did.

With his human backed into his cage, he was free to roam his claimed territory.

_Prey._

He followed the sound until he stopped in front of a rather old yew tree. Spreading his maw wide, he let his tongue roll as he scented for prey hiding somewhere nearby.

Whether it be friend or foe, foe and friend, he didn't know and he didn't care—all he knew was that there'd be a feast of fine meat for him to dine upon—if their scent had anything on their meat.

Before he pounced, however, he tested the air for the scent of another wolf. Snarling, his hackles rose to the threat. No wolf would enter his forest without him having a say, and he snapped his maw with another snarl as he growled for his prey to stay put.

He'd already staked his claim, so he wouldn't let another wolf take it away. Bounding towards the trees, he got closer to the smell of the wolf, and he struck his claws in an arc to catch the wolf off-guard—but there was no wolf and his paws swept through plain air.

Later, when Remus rose from his slumber in the deeper parts of the Forbidden Forest, he'd wonder why the wolf ran around—as though it were searching for something, someone, and he'd remember how it'd exhausted itself trying to chase whatever it was down.

It was a first he hadn't hurt himself during the full moon, but Remus wasn't going to complain. He'd been afraid of the wolf going on a rampage, but the wolf hadn't left the forest, so it might be safe to change even without his mates.

Still, he wouldn't risk the thought that it could still go wrong, and so he prayed that the wolf wouldn't go on a rampage the next full moon that came.

Hermione and Severus would never admit that they led the werewolf in a game of chase—if anybody asked where they were, they'd just say that they were asleep in their beds (after all, they wouldn't be caught out of bed after curfew).


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

His hair grew long—that was the only warning she needed to know. _Honestly,_ "When you said long—you meant it."

"Of course I meant it, you blubbering fool—would I lie about my hair's length?"

She combed through his hair as he sat as still as he could while she untangled the knots to the best of her abilities. "You know," she murmured, "you should keep it as is." They were much longer than her hair, but considering how she'd had it cut to just below her chin, his hair definitely beat out hers in terms of length.

"So I can suffer under the humidity that humanity names summer? I'll pass."

As she ran the brush down the back of his head, the corner of her lips quirked up. "Sit still, would you? You're making this more difficult than it has to be."

"It wouldn't be difficult at all, you bloody buffoon, if you didn't tug so hard."

She clicked her tongue as she furrowed her brows, "There's no need for name calling—unless you want me to start too? I've got a few that are horrid. Wanna hear?"

"Pain—will make many a loose tongue."

"And what does that even mean?" she asked as she shook her head while staring down. They'd destroyed the mirror they had some years back, so she couldn't tell what expression he'd used while speaking to her.

"I mean that you're pulling my hair out more than you're brushing it, so it pains me enough, and I've got no filter on my mouth—anything less than a Cruciatus curse is my curse."

She pursed her lips as she sucked on her cheeks while biting down. "Your pain tolerance is surprisingly low." _Considering all you've been through._

A grunt escaped as his response, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes as she— _gently_ , she reminded herself—brushed his hair. When he wasn't being his usual self, he was pretty much a big baby, and she found it simply amusing how he trusted her enough to let down his (and here she couldn't help but snort) hair. Because if there was something she enjoyed more than learning, it was being punny—though her puns rarely made people laugh.

"Ha ha."

"Such a dry response—I'm so happy."  _Wait, did he read my thoughts?_ "That's creepy Sev—I don't know how you're doing it, but stop it."

He grunted again, and then scowled at her when she tugged extra hard on the knots of his hair. It didn't matter that they'd been together for a life's worth because they'd still resort to their childish ways even though the other didn't particularly care. It was what made them them—really, so even though time travelling had messed with their actual ages—no matter how long they lived (another fifty years or more), they'd still remain young at heart.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

Lily Evans held his heart, and that was the only truth Hermione knew.

She wanted to grasp it, break it apart, and then ignite it with fire.

He needed to breathe.

He needed to leave.

He didn't need to be weighed down by Lily's beauty.

"What are you doing?"

She said nothing—simply gave him a smile and continued administrating butter on her toast.

Around her noise escalated—she, a Hufflepuff, had chosen to sit at a table that wasn't her house.

"Why are you here?"

Her eyes crinkled in answer, laughter, and silence.

It was all she would give away, and she had a feeling he wasn't pleased to guess what she meant.

It was a game of twenty-questions, and her answer—in the form of responding gestures and expression.

"When will you cease your abhorrent behaviour?"

 _Well that's a new one,_  she mused as she filed it away inside a folder labelled 'INSULTS by SEVERUS SNAPE'—she could imagine it now how the folder would burst for freedom because there was no way the folder would hold all those notes she'd piled inside. In fact, the idea amused her, and she conjured the idea where possible mind intruders would have a difficult time stomping their way through the notes because there'd be too many to get through for them to get through her mind smoothly—even with the idea where they set fire on her files.

"Are you out of your mind?"

She had half a buttered toast hanging out of her mouth as she returned from her mind, and the sound of her gulp was loud to her ears as she presented him with a closed-mouth grin. Hearing him sigh made her day because it was far too amusing to stop—getting on his nerves aggravated him, and she'd never dared to try when they'd not been equals. Now though? They were equals (in the literal sense) since they were classmates, and they were growing at the same pace. Add to the fact that they scored first place at the end-of-the-year-tests, and they really were equals on the individual ranking boards.

It really was worth sitting at the Slytherin table just to cause a mini uproar.

Lily would never dare to sit here, so she chalked it up as her win—a one-sided competition that involved one active participant.

"Once you're done—we'll head to the library."

Smiling like a canary, she gobbled the rest of her breakfast before grabbing her bag to follow. There was nothing better than visiting the library, especially since there was no Madam Pince getting in the way of her affair with books because if anybody knew her, then the one thing that'd come right to mind were her love for books.

She could care less about grumpy old Slytherins as she spread her arms wide.

"You can save those for another time. We're here for a reason," scowled the man she'd gotten along with so terribly well.

Sniffing, she sent the books back to their places before opening the ones that might provide some more insight into their drawn-out plan. It was coming along nicely even though they had to account for small bumps along the way—Peter showing up to the Great Hall with a bruise on his head had been one such bump, and it only meant that things were in the chaos of change. _James and Sirius, on the other hand, still haven't changed._ They'd be as good as dead with the way things were going, and though the two of them had changed certain points of the timeline, the events were still following the linear path.

Nothing was set in stone because if it was, then they wouldn't have been able to come this far back, and equally so, they wouldn't have succeeded in changing a single thing.

"Your mind is distracted."

She blinked up with a shrug. "—can't help it," she pulled a tome closer to her side of the table before opening to the first page.

"Shall we stop for the day?"

The idea of leaving the library just because she wasn't paying attention to their brainstorming horrified her, and she refused with the shake of her head.

Silence ensued as they both delved into research, and she compared the peace to a moment of drinking mead tranquilly. Granted, the worst (or best considering the circumstances) she'd ever drunk was a flute of champagne, and that wasn't enough to get her drunk. She'd need something stronger—something like firewhisky, but she didn't have access to it, so she could only imagine what it would be like if she had a taste of delectability.

A snort brought her back to the present-world, and she frowned at the impassive face of one Severus Snape. Her eyes slowly narrowed into slits as she observed the way he held himself—he'd been minding his own business and had done nothing of the sort—whatever she was accusing him of (not that she was accusing him of anything.

"Is there something interesting about me that you're willing to stare for a prolonged period of time?" he asked.

She scoffed, "You'd only know if you'd been staring too."

"My talent lies in knowing when somebody's staring at me," he replied.

 _Doubtful_ —she rolled her eyes, "Are you sure?"

"Always."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

There was nothing wrong with wanting to dance—

"You have two left feet."

—aside from that fact getting in her way.

"And how did you dance at the Yule Ball?"

Viktor had led.

All she did was follow.

" _Impressive._ "

"Isn't it?"

"It wasn't a compliment."

"I'll take it as one anyway."

Sometimes, all she had to do was find a dance partner who knew how to lead and she was set.

"Your foot is stepping on my feet."

"Sorry!"


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

She was down here again—the first time being that day she'd been put to sleep by Dumbledore—and the only difference was the out-of-body experience.

Nobody was around to save her as she watched herself sink deeper into the deep blue sea (technically, it was a lake, but the body of water was massive anyway).

 _Would I end up haunting the Black Lake after death?_ She couldn't fathom moving on without regrets.

Tilting her head back, she found there was no resistance, and she observed the surface ripple from beneath the waves.

Sure, it was a sight to see, but she didn't want to see it while her physical tie to the world was drowning.

James Potter really was going to regret crossing her ire—just as soon as she stopped herself from drowning (how she was going to do it she didn't know, but she couldn't wait to find out).

Squinting down, she urged her fingers to move, to do something, to do anything, but nothing she did helped.

_"Stupid girl getting herself into this mess—"_

_Now I resent that—I didn't know this would happen._

_"Merlin, where is she?"_

_Well, I'm right over there Sev—right to your left, so you can't miss me._

Swimming along, she kept her eye on her body as he dived closer and farther. Anytime he looked in the wrong direction, she'd wave her arms in front of his face in hopes that something would alert him that he was looking in the wrong direction.

 _I swear, you'd make a poor seeker._ It was pretty hilarious in a morbid way—the thought of Severus playing Quidditch underwater. _In that case, I'd be the Snitch._ So he'd have to spot her just to drag her out of the water.

She didn't know how long it took before she clapped her hands in approval. _Congrats, you found me!_ It was surprising how she hadn't drowned to her death, but it didn't matter because she was glad she wouldn't have to haunt the lake after her return from near death, and within seconds of Severus disappearing from her view—her body floating in his arms, she found herself coughing in dread.

_I'm in the Hospital Wing—I survived death._

"That was reckless of you."

She gave him the finger when she couldn't respond to the words he spat in hate.

It wasn't the time or the place, but that didn't matter—what mattered was that the matron was informed about her waking up, and she'd come bursting in with potions in her wake.

Hermione ignored her glore in distaste—it wasn't her fault she'd been knocked into the Black Lake, so if anybody were to be blamed, then James Potter was to blame for his outrageous and dangerous bullying ways.

When all was swell, and she only needed to stay behind for two days, she rested with her head swimming in tired hate.

Severus was vicious in getting back at the Marauders during her time in the Hospital Wing, but no one could prove it was him setting the pranks, so it was pushed to one of the three involved in the act of bullying their classmate.

There was something to be said about him seeking vengeance for her— _so maybe he would make a great seeker._ It was completely out of context, but it brought a smile to her face, and she soon thanked him by providing the ingredients for a potion he'd been working on before their travel back—it wasn't much because she couldn't afford such expensive things, but she had her ways, and dare she say it— _Severus had been happy enough for it to show on his face._

"Thank you," she whispered when they spent some of their free time in the corner of the library. Although she'd gotten her voice back, it was still a little bit raspy, but she didn't mind it when she was happy.

He'd given her a long side-glance, but he refused to respond to her words of thanks—still, it was his way of accepting her thanks, so she settled for covering her lips as she returned to catching up on her books. It was one of the things she didn't mind about him—really.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

Her housemates were friendly, but they'd distanced themselves from her when they discovered she hung out with Severus.

It wasn't just her they stopped talking to—anyone caught hanging with members of the Slytherin house shortly found themselves becoming outsiders in their own house.

The exclusion didn't bother her, and she never saw fit to tell Severus about her treatment in her own house—there was no reason to because it didn't matter—their time at Hogwarts would pass in a few blinks of a sleeping giant's eye, and it would all fade away in her mind.

The only other who knew was Remus because he'd seen her housemates glowering at her as they passed through the halls, and with his enhanced hearing he'd caught the heated whispers as they pointed at her behind her back. Though he hadn't confronted her about it, he made sure she knew he was there for her whenever he could.

So if there was one person she'd protect out of the kindness of her heart, then it would be Remus Lupin.

It was truly sad that the people he hung out with wouldn't learn from him—Peter being an exception because the rat was starting to learn, and she hoped that all would pass under the hearth.

Her time at Hogwarts as a Hufflepuff outcast was no different from her time at Hogwarts as a Gryffindor outcast—the only difference being that she'd put it behind her because what point was there in getting worked up? It didn't hurt her feelings because she didn't care about them, so it didn't really matter, and some things (most things) weren't worth her time.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-06-01

She'd followed him back to Spinner's End because they both knew she had no life in this time.

Not a wisp of her soul stood on this plane, and even though she was here she was a soul damaged through time.

"My mother vanished long before our return."

In a way, it was uncomfortable for him to sleep in the room that his parents slept in, but there was no guest room because his father didn't have people over, so there existed only two rooms in the house.

He'd given Hermione his room, and lodged himself in the space his parents once shared.

Neither of them complained, and within days, they'd established a tentative routine.

Severus would be the first to wake and Hermione would follow some minutes after.

They'd make something simple to eat—none of them experts, but they were decent enough with preparing their meals.

Then they'd part ways and do whatever it was that they did from morning til the evening of the day.

It'd be rare for them to deviate from their routines, but sometimes they'd sit around and discuss their plan and situation at hand.

Voldemort bid his time—that was no different from what he'd done in their time, and though they knew where he'd be (in the general vicinity), they didn't know when exactly it'd be.

Second-hand information didn't cut it, but they could only wait while becoming players of his game.

They had to be patient or else they'd be screwed, and that was part of what they had to do because they had to reach the path of the end in order to get through or it'll be the bad end.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

His hands were clasped together as he rested his elbows against the top of his kneecaps. With his eyes shut and his nostrils flared out, he breathed in the dust.

The crown of his head was parallel to his pelvis as his long oily locks hung like strung noodles to provide cover from revealing his face.

As he held his breath, his shoulders rose and touched the lobe of his ears.

His stomach coiled like the snake he was, and he was ready to escape as he clenched his hands.

He refused to look up—still clinging to the void he'd set around himself, but she would break through, and she would break in for she was difficult to resist.

As he bit the inside of his cheeks, the heel of his shoes lifted off from the ground. He'd glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth, but it wasn't permanent, and as his lips quivered—with each shudder, the heel of his shoe would fall to the ground— _pa-thum pa-thum_ echoing rather loud.

Her thumbs rubbed circles against his shoulder blades as she lowered herself to her knees. He shrugged off her contact, but she refused to back off.

It mattered not that his robes were wrinkled because she didn't give a bloody fuck—they didn't get in the way of her amateur massage.

The longer she worked, the more her thumbs grew sore. He was a lost cause, but when he lifted his chin and tilt his face her way, she couldn't help but crinkle her eyes.

_She has dimples when she smiles._

He froze and his muscles tensed on the spot.

Her lips were as light as a feather, and for a scant couple of seconds, his calf muscles had bunched up.

This—whatever it was—was new because she'd never made such a move.

Nobody was around for her to act in such a way, and he didn't know what to do.

He freed his hands from their confined position, and watched her straighten her posture—but she didn't back away as she graced him with that smile.

He breathed in deep before abandoning his slouch for a straight back, and as he rested his palms against the top of his knees, his elbows clung to his sides—it was then that he truly opened his eyes instead of opting to hide.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

It was Hogsmeade, and Sirius saw blood-curdling news. He had to tell his mate because James had been waiting for years for Lily to accept his offer of a date, and here was Snivellus getting to her before his best mate.

It was blasphemy—blasphemous.

He nudged his friend's shoulder as he gestured to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, but his best mate had yet to look up from the card he'd drawn from Remus' hand.

He tried again.

"Hey Prongs," he casually began, "isn't that Snivellus with Lily Evans?"

At first glance, James could only gape, and once he looked away, Sirius could see how his ears began to burn with shame.

If Lily rejected James but accepted Snivellus Snape, then it could only mean one thing—that James was below the slimy snake.

Blood rushed through his veins as he scowled. "She ain't worth it Prongs." He'd been supporting the two long before he could remember, but at this very moment he couldn't support his best mate.

"She's still my Lily, Padfoot."

"Yours?"

Sirius snarled as he dug his fingers into the robes of his best mate and lifted the blasted stag off the ground with seething hate. "She's sitting right there eating ice cream with Snivellus Snape—you see her right there? Right in front of you and she's enjoying her date. Face it James, she's never given you a second of her day, and you've been pursuing her since you called her your 'fate'. She doesn't deserve you when she's clearly not into you but Snivellus Snape."

It hurt him to say those words even as they escaped, but he wouldn't take them back—he meant all of it, and James didn't deserve someone who wouldn't give him the time of their day.

"It's just—Prongs, you're my best mate, and we're—you just deserve better, y'know?"

But James only looked at him as though he'd been betrayed.

"Sirius, leave it—"

"But Remus—"

"Leave it."

In the back of his mind, Sirius blamed James for being antlers over hooves for Evans, and even though Snivellus wasn't doing anything to them, the blasted snake was ruining their friendship of many years, and he couldn't wait to get back at the git.

Lily didn't deserve James. Though he supported them, it didn't mean that he had to like her. In his mind, she was prissy and fake.

And to think—it was Hogsmeade where his thoughts would rise up in hate.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

She was in the mood for pizza. It was sudden, random, and completely out of place—especially since pizza wasn't a staple of the wizarding world.

Her hunger for meat had come out of nowhere (somewhere), and she brushed the back of her hand against her lips as she felt herself drool.

As she left the den, her stomach rumbled a hungry tune.

Vani, one of the house elves, had joined Hogwarts after her Master died, and she was one of the few elves who knew all about Muggle foods.

_I could eat a whole pizza or two._

Her eyes gazed hungrily upon the spinning dough, and as the toppings fell into place, she dug her nails against the centre of her rib cage.

_You'll soon get to eat—you'll soon get your meal—_

"Missus. Pizza should be ready in twenty minutes. Would Missus want something to drink?"

The area below her rib cage continued to quake, and she was unable to hold her smile so she settled for humming an affirmative—the drink she left for the house elf to decide.

Her throat rumbled along the vibrations of her aching need, and the small hairs of her nape stood on end as she felt her temperature gradually descend. From warm to cold she went, and she lowered her head to rest in wait.

She didn't know how long she sat, but time certainly passed when Vani announced her return with the divine. "Would Missus and Mister want marshmallows with their drinks?"

_Someone's here?_

She opened her eyes and gazed at the other—her partner sat a couple feet away, and she watched him lift his mug to let Vani add—"What are you doing here?"

When he turned his sights onto her, she couldn't help but gulp. _I realize I look pathetic sprawled like this, but I don't want to get up._

He humoured her. "It's the weekend."

 _That's not—_ "Why are you here?"  _It's a stupid question. Why don't I just shut up? Merlin, pick up that mug—I'll have to sit up._

"Must you question why I'm in one place and not another?"

"Forget I asked." Her stomach was momentarily appeased as she'd drown a third of her mug, and she enclosed her palms around the warm mug—her personal hand heater. _How long has it been? I lost count. What time will it end? I need a watch, a phone—my wand—whatever will help me keep track._

As her stomach gurgled in protest for its long-deserved sacrifice, she dropped her forehead against the table and muffled her hunger-induced pain.

With her eyes shut tight, she listened to the pit-pattering, sizzling, drumming, and nerve-racking sounds that echoed within the busy kitchen. Her sense of awareness prickled as the smell of meat waft through the air, and she straightened in her seat immediately—salivating as her eyes feast upon divine delicacy. It was junk food at house elf best, and she ignored the heat to devour a slice.

_Love—_

Safe to say, she melted, and she dug her teeth deep into the burning carcass of pizza dough which was covered atop by a fine layer of tomato sauce—it was hidden beneath sweet delectable cheese, and misaligned with a generous topping of bacon crumbs ground beef, mushrooms, and pepperoni.

Lost to the world, she ate with a monster's grace.

Four slices more and the throbbing ache below her rib cage started to ebb away. Content, she slowed down to savour the rest.

Across from the table her partner raised his brow, and he slowly took a sip of his sugary sweetness.

Her brows furrowed as she covered her lips. "What?" she grumbled out as she chewed thick crust into crunchy smithereens.

"Nothing."

Vani then returned with a dish filled to the brim. On the top sat truss tomatoes cut into wedges, zucchini slices an inch thick—there was mozzarella melted, and a handful of basil leaves topped it. Though it was still early in the morning, Severus had a craving for Yorkshire pudding—he'd had enough of Yorkshire pudding with roasted beef, but he'd yet to try Yorkshire pudding with roasted vegetables.

A change of pace wouldn't hurt anyone, and the house elves were happy to oblige with outside requests. He was simply benefiting from their eagerness to serve.

The two sat still as they finished their mugs and inhaled the rest of their meal. Neither spoke about leaving first, but Severus broke through with his command in words, "We'll be going."

Hermione followed him as she dipped her head to the house elves cleaning after them, and she furrowed her brows as she stepped through the door. "Where are we going?"

He led her up the stairs with a slow shake of his head—wasn't she the one who claimed they needed to plan? So plan they did, and they spent that weekend without incidents and pranks.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

It was a tightrope (how she knew she didn't know).

It was a tightrope, and there were only three options to choose.

Cross the rope—but she could see there was nowhere else to go.

Stay behind—but she knew her past would consume her mind.

Fall and die—but she couldn't afford to be enticed.

There were only three options to choose, and none of them were ones she wanted to abide.

If she crossed the rope—it would do her no good. She'd crossed the rope, but there was nowhere else but forth she could go.

It was the same viewpoint (just on the other side), so it was a game where she had to survive and not cry.

Crying would be a waste of energy, and she needed that energy to live. But what was she living for?

Why was she willing to cross that rope when she'd already crossed it? Crossing it, and crossing it again—how many times?

In the first place, why was there a rope? She couldn't remember crossing it, but she certainly did. Was it real? An illusion? Some sort of curse?

A dream—so why wasn't she waking from it? If she fell and hypothetically died, would it be enough to jolt her awake?

_Don't try._

She could hear, but she couldn't see, and her eyes sought for the other which warned her not to try.

It was bizarre—her screaming, but she'd been here for days.

Time ticked away.

It'd been ages since she noticed time.

How long had she gone back and forth on that rope?

Did she hope to die and stay alive?

_Fight it._

What was she supposed to fight? There was nothing there—wherever there was—and the only things around were the tightrope and her withering life.

She spun and shut her mouth from trying to pry.

The voice didn't call out, but somehow she knew—she knew it was near.

She understood nothing of the rope tied to the other side, but she couldn't stay otherwise she'd die.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

She closed her eyes.

Gritting her teeth, she dug fingernails into flesh.

Don't die.

Stay alive.

None of it helped, but she had to try and try.

The imprints of her nails vanished from sight, so she moved onto her arms.

She felt nothing, but blood rushed up to stain her fingernails.

She felt nothing, but her nails had broken through her skin.

She felt nothing, but she had to feel something.

"Ha—!"

She'd lurched forth to fall off the cliff, and though she didn't want to, she had no other choice.

It was a feeling inside her she couldn't quite grasp, but she was glad she didn't meet her end.

If she did, she wouldn't know.

Either way, she didn't meet her end.

 _He made sure of that._ "Took you long enough."

She blinked twice as she craned her neck, and shortly after she gasped, "What happened?"

"The Marauders, what else?"

She swallowed her saliva as she stared up at the sky, "I—need to leave."

"And go where? Madam Pomfrey won't let you go until you're all healed."

Her head spun as she looked away and focused on nothing but everything at once, "I don't know. I just—just need to sleep."

"Then sleep. She'll be checking on you anyway."

She wanted to escape, but she wanted to stay.

Whatever they'd done to her—she would make them pay because nobody messed with her and thought they could get away.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

The floorboards creaked below their feet as they both walked down the stairs.

The damned wizard had shown them the shack so they were prepared, but going there was different from being shown the entire shack.

It was deteriorating, but the shack wasn't as bad as it'd been made out to be, so perhaps it was a matter of time and essence?

They certainly found it much easier to get past—the wards didn't stop them, and they'd taken their time taking it all down.

The location of the ring should (hypothetically speaking) remain the same, so they'd been tasked with removing the floorboards—the golden box wouldn't reveal itself, and Dumbledore hadn't shown them where it had sat.

Magic would be useful in their situation, but it would cause more trouble than it was worth—their magical signatures would be identified, so they'd be tracked down and who knows what would happen to them should they be found.

It wasn't a bright plan, but it was a plan nonetheless.

As they grasped the edges of wooden boards, time ticked and tocked within their heads.

The floorboards were pried open, but not a hint of gold appeared within sight.

It took them hours—however long it'd taken them because they hadn't been keeping track—before their eyes fell on their golden prize.

The ring was cursed, but it only worked as long as it was worn, and neither of them were willing to die a horrible death like the wizard that'd fallen in their timeline.

Once they gathered all of the horcruxes, they would destroy it, so until that day arrived, they would keep it boxed and contained like Dumbledore instructed them to do.

Before they did that, however, they agreed that the resurrection stone had to go—it wouldn't be destroyed, rather, it would be preserved.

Only Merlin and them two would know.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

It was her fault—her fault entirely.

Her revenge came in the form of his missing pants. No matter how many times he'd get dressed in new ones—every step out of his room would result in an uncomfortable breeze just swirling up from underneath, and every time he'd feel that breeze he'd return to his room to get dressed again.

Simply put, she delayed him in going after her, and such an act aggravated him.

It was despicable of her to pull such a thing, and he couldn't fathom why.

 _Perhaps_ , just maybe—it might do with how he refused to destroy the diary  _with_  her—didn't she realize the young Malfoy would have no reason (none at all) to trust her? Why did she think it was a good idea then? Merlin knows because he certainly didn't.

So she held him back. She held him back because she knew he'd been thinking about going after the diary. Though they were to have each other's backs, reality clearly told him otherwise—his missing pants kept him caged inside and left behind while she went on her merry way getting into danger with the Malfoy Manor.

It most certainly had to be her trap (who else would trap him like that?) because the blasted 'puff knew he'd never go commando (why she knew was another story for another time, but she kept her lips sealed, so he wouldn't know unless she spilled the entire deal). Strike while the iron's hot—wasn't it? She must've waited for the right time to act before she set out, and now he had to wait for her to undo whatever spell or charm she chanced on him because he couldn't get out.

If he read things right, then right about now his partner— _partner: s_ _uch a misleading word, and how wonderful of me to speak to myself; why, I'm clearly still sane_ —would be sneaking into Malfoy Manor. She'd been with him when he'd gotten word about Abraxas Malfoy's son becoming another one of the Dark Lord's pets—that title had manifested from the witches and wizards who'd not been branded the ever malicious Dark Mark, and it served to mock those who within the inner circle because who in their twisted minds would gleefully accept being demeaned by another? The Dark Lord's pet wasn't a title any pureblood would be proud of—not in his time, and certainly not in this one either.

Lucius' initiation into the inner circle would grant the boy the opportunity to prove his worth by safeguarding the Dark Lord's journal, so he'd planned on acting as soon as news spread about Lucius' temporary leave of Hogwarts. A week at least would have given him enough time to break into Malfoy Manor—Lucius would be bedridden and nobody would watch over him (it was some sort of Malfoy thing where the family left their injured to hold out on their own, and he'd seen it happen enough times to know how long it'd last), so he'd be able to collect the horcrux and slip away.

Of course, that plan went down the drain.  _Bloody Hufflepuff._ He'd have to wait for her return because there'd be no point in him trying to leave—whatever spell she'd used to keep him back hadn't let up, so it wouldn't make a difference if he tried to leave two or three hundred more times, so the least he would do would be to wait for her return.

He didn't trust her to collect it without incident, but he had to place his trust in her to know what she was doing. By Rowena Ravenclaw she had to—she had to because he only ever mentioned his plan of trespassing, and theory-wise it'd be fine, but putting that theory into practice—well, it might not be fine, so as long as she bypassed the wards, then the diary's retrieval would be a success.

The only problem he knew she would have would be the wards because even in their time when he'd been keyed into the manor's wards—unless he entered with Lucius, he wouldn't be allowed through. The wards considered him an intruder, so imagine a trespasser trying to bypass the wards without being keyed in. _Merlin she better get through._

The door clicked open and he looked up. Hermione stood in the doorway (how she managed to get into the Slytherin Dungeon was anyone's guess), and the corners of her lips had been pulled down.

"I didn't get it because Dobby stopped me."

A snarl escaped his lips as he rose from the edge of his bed. _For Godric's sake—!_

The side of her face was twitching—it was unusual considering how long he'd known her for, and he narrowed his eyes as he breathed in through his nose. Something wasn't quite right. She stood with her back straight, her hands behind her back, and though her face was downcast, he noted the way her shoulders began to relax. Tilting his chin down, he casually folded his arms and straightened his back.

"I'll let this slide this time, but know that I won't fall for it again."

Perhaps it was because the counter-spells had yet to be placed on the horcruxes because Severus managed to accio the diary into his hand—he didn't expect it to work, and he hadn't thought it through when he pictured the diary, but it worked. _That gives us something,_ he mused as he stared down at the object held in his hand.

As soon as Severus saw through her (admittedly poor) act, Hermione's poker face broke through and she grinned as widely as she dared to. In her head she celebrated their success even though she was the one who'd gone through with retrieving it—it was payback since she wanted to prove that he wasn't the only one capable of breaking in and entering, and she'd remember his reaction until he topped it with something more.

On a side note, Severus would soon realize that the reason his pants kept vanishing were because of the bribed house elves—the moment they caught notice of him leaving his room, the second he'd feel that cool breeze beneath his robes.

 _One_   _horcrux down—some more to go._


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

_It was a dream — it had to be._

All around him he saw threads, and he couldn't help but compare it to blood drawn from fresh flesh.

From above they overlapped as an organized mess, and if he had to compare, then he'd say they were cables and wires tangled up with little room left to spare.

As he stared, he noticed he was old again. His hands—the body he'd grown into—it wasn't his. The body did resemble his, but a resemblance didn't mean it was his.

_It had to be — it was a dream._

As he feast his eyes on the floor, he slid his foot out, forwards, and into an arc.

Whatever he was expecting—had he been expecting—certainly wasn't this.

From the sole of his foot, unnatural warmth spread, and he gulped to the steadily pulsing threads.

His heart beat loud against his chest. Meaning hid within, but what meaning? He wasn't sure he needed to know.

_To find out — there was only one way to go._

As he indulged in the pulsating warmth being spread, he clenched his hands and slowly breathed in.

They spoke to him—how he did not know, but they spoke and they asked for him to follow.

The threads began to fan out the further he followed.

Without knowing why, without knowing where, without knowing how—all would soon become clear.

_There was only one way to go — to find out._

They wove around and slowly spread out, but to where he couldn't follow—they wouldn't say, and they wouldn't let him find out.

If he turned back—if he did, then what would happen? Would he wake up, or would he continue to tread across ground?

Where were they leading him to, and why did they call him out?

_Someday — he'd reach the end._

The air was moist and he swept strands of his hair behind his ears.

A frown appeared on his face as he peered into the distance.

Visibility was becoming more and more limited by the shroud of the mist.

But still he followed into the everlasting night and day.

_He'd reach the end — someday._

_"Severus."_

He turned towards the sound—his feet planted on solid ground.

The voice which called him out—it might (might not) be the one he wanted to think about.

_"Severus."_

It was just a dream. How silly would it be?

_The red strand pulsed — shivers went down his spine._

As the thread pulsed beside his feet, he observed how red vanished within the mist.

He didn't dare follow lest he lose himself.

So he stayed in spite of their cries.

_Shivers went down his spine — the red strand pulsed._

Through the mist he saw a hint of red curve up.

_"Severus."_

That voice called for him, but he stayed.

Rather, he couldn't move.

_"Wake up."_


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

His palms were rough. His fingers were full of calluses. His foot massage prickled her feet.

She understood (accepted it even), but that didn't mean the feel of his touch was something to enjoy and relax for.

Skin scraped against skin as she plastered a smile on her face the second he shifted to look up. She had to make it light-hearted, sweet, and gentle.

Her hands weren't any different—no one got out of war with their skin pure and untainted. Add to the fact that nobody in their day and age got out unscathed, and even if you did, then old age would catch up—life's nature would make sure of that.

Though she didn't know why, her lover had insisted on giving her a foot massage (for ages really, it was a surprise), and she'd finally given in to his persistence. _By Rowena do I regret agreeing._

His nails were chipped and sharp.

She didn't have the heart to call out about it.

"—you asleep?"

 _What?_ "No—no, I'm alright. I just—just dozed off I guess."

She looked down at him to see him sucking in his upper lip—the freckles disappearing beneath his bottom lip.

"You find it lacking."

 _Was it obvious?_ "I'm—"

"Don't be."

She winced.

His palms slid from the soles of her feet, and her eyes followed him as he retreated from their living room.

The door clicked shut in her face, and she covered her face.

That had been the first time she accepted his offer.

There would be no more for sure for after.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

It was that damn vanishing step. Neville had gotten his leg stuck in it once, and she'd have skipped past it had she not been tripped mid-jump, so here she was completely stuck.

From below, she could see through the opening of the step, but she couldn't reach for it, and it was that damned Gryffindor's fault for tripping her into the step (hell, how she even fell in was a mystery considering how it wasn't large enough for her to even fit through—much less fall through).

If she'd been more wary, she would've noticed how odd it was for Sirius Black to keep mum around her when he hated her as much as he hated Snivellus Snape (and trust her because he'd announce it each and every miserable day they would cross paths).

It hadn't taken long for her to hear him cackling to his hearts content, and he'd left her to stew within the staircase.

Grinding her teeth, she flexed her fingers and cracked her knuckles as she narrowed her eyes up at the only source of light. "You'll pay for that," she seethed, and quietly, she thanked Merlin for his short-sighted insight because he hadn't snatched her wand away before pulling his damnable stunt.

A quick lumos granted her sight as she held her arm out and bathed her surroundings with light. Curiosity had killed the cat, and she peered down at the stairs within the stairs. _Well, would you fancy that._

As she chanced a glance back, she pursed her lips and hummed below her breath. By now Black would've left to boast to the rest of his peers about pulling one on her, and she wasn't going to stay in the same spot for others to laugh at her peculiar situation. _I'll take my chances._

So down she went.

Though her shoes didn't click or clack, she thought it should be present just to hear something other than white noise. Had she worn her heels—a story for another time where Severus was to blame—then she wouldn't be descending the steps in silence.

"I wonder—" Lifting her wand above her head, she craned her head back and blinked up at the ceiling beneath the stairs.

It was blasphemy since it didn't seem like she was inside the staircase because above her—there were paintings—live ones that scurried from the edge of the light that lit her wand, and she observed in still awe.

"Am I still in Hogwarts?" _There's too many mysteries to discover, but not enough lifetimes to discover._

The soundless click-clacks didn't echo as she resumed her descent, and she stared at the paintings as they stared back at her. None of the paintings were familiar to the ones she remembered. _How fascinating,_ she mused, and it had taken a shove into the disappearing-step for the sight to be discovered.

Severus would appreciate her findings. He'd been all but pleased to remember the fifty-foot long Basilisk sleeping underneath Hogwarts—though they remembered, neither of them could open the entrance, and blasting school property wasn't a thing either of them would get away with, so his supply of Potions ingredients would remain without the parts of a Basilisk.

"—wonder, is there an exit through here?" she thought aloud. Dipping her wand down so that it faced more towards the ground— _how long have I been walking down?_ —she saw then that much to her surprise there stood a wall.

She'd nearly walked (or slammed face-first) into a wall.

Her lips parted open as she released the breath she'd unconsciously held, and her brows rose high as she took a step back.

"That wall can't be lighting up, can it?"

_Sure it can._

She was talking to herself. Wasn't that a sign? How long had she been down here for because apparently she was turning crazy—if she hadn't already. _I can't believe this._ Still, who would she talk to if there wasn't anybody to talk to nearby? Herself, of course, so she wouldn't be crazy. _It's normal, right?_ It had to be because she knew she wasn't the only one who thought and responded to theirselves.

Turning her head back up the stairs, she glanced back and forth. Only when there were engine-like clacks to her right did she turn fully to face the wall—branding her wand towards the wall, she watched an arch form and collapse, but to her wary surprise there was no noise and the fallen bricks were swept away because the hole in the wall was clear.

_I must be out of my mind. I must be waiting where I fell. This can't be real._

On she went.

Blame it on curiosity, but she wouldn't stop moving forth. Within minutes of entering the maze—she'd gotten herself lost. _Just how does any of this even work?_

Logic didn't seem to apply inside the staircase and the long curving halls of the stone maze.

Upon hitting a dead end, she turned to return from where she came, but the path had disappeared—it was gone—just like that, so she was stuck for however long until the maze saw fit.

 _I sorely regret following curiosity._ It certainly had killed the cat, and she didn't want to end up like Crookshanks—"So I need to get out of here, but how?"

Were she in her right mind, she wouldn't have bothered, but the damage was done and she held onto her wand.

 _Would the stairs collapse?_ She had blasted the wall though she hadn't thought it through, but it was the first thing she knew she had to do if she didn't want to stay any longer than she stayed for, and she'd do it again—she would.

_"Where the bloody bollocks is this?"_

As she grasped her head, she pressed down on her skull and she clenched her eyes shut to the sound of her nearby surroundings.

"Miss Granger, was it? How long has she been down there?"

"Merlin—she's freezing. Everybody move away. I'm going to levitate her."

"Black was the last to see her. He had something to do with this."

"I had _nothing_ to do with this. I was in the common room the entire time—James and Peter can back me up!"

"But Sirius, you—"

"He was with us the entire time—in the common room—yes, that's right," James interrupted as he draped his arm across Peter's shoulders.

From Hermione's side, Severus narrowed his eyes at the trio of liars. Even if he produced proof of their lies, the professors wouldn't believe him—all of them were prejudiced against the house of Slytherin. If it hadn't been for the Hufflepuff knocking on the dungeon doors, he wouldn't have discovered that Hermione was missing in the first place.

"All four of you will return to your dorms. I don't want to catch any of you wandering after curfew, do you hear me?"

Let it be said that Filius could be scary when he wanted to be because Sirius left immediately, and he dragged James and Peter with him without sparing anyone a glance. Severus, on the other hand, stood stubbornly still, and it was only when he lost their glaring contest that he backed down and left to return to the dungeons.

Hermione would spend the rest of the night sleeping in the Hospital Wing, so when she woke in the morning just before breakfast, the matron had deemed her fit to leave (it wasn't as simple as that considering the exchanges of grumbling and tongues clicking, but she was allowed to leave after taking the necessary potions to ensure there was nothing wrong with her).

"And how are you?" Severus drawled when he caught sight of Hermione as he waited outside the Great Hall.

"There were live paintings beneath the stairs."

He stared up at the small bump he knew had to be there.

"Severus, I'm—if we just—I'm sure there's something down there!"

"You were out cold when the paintings told us where you were last seen. When you say you want to go back—just to look at something down there, I'm sure Pomfrey would be pleased."

"I swear—there really is something down that vanishing step. We can prove it if you just follow me!"

A prolonged sigh made itself clear from Severus' side, and he opened the doors without waiting for her to follow him in. If she wanted to lose herself in her delusions, then so be it, but he had breakfast to eat, and he'd waited long enough for her to appear.

Hermione scowled as she followed him to the Slytherin's table. _I'm sure there's something there—it felt too real to be a dream._

The paintings nearby watched with shimmering eyes as they smiled. Their conversation (if it could be called that) would be spread around, but that was neither here nor there because it was everywhere and nowhere.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

Harry once told her about the map, and she’d been curious about it ever since. Now having the honours as she spread the parchment wide, she watched the magic unravel before her very eyes and watched it burst to life.

With her wand in one hand, and the parchment in the other, she cast a quick revelio charm and narrowed her eyes.

_Mr. Moony would like to thank Hermione for being his project partner._

"Well—that certainly isn't what I expected of the map." Leant back against the wall, she mused about the spells the four might've used to bring the map to life, and she craned her head to squint at the ink scrawled across the parchment.

_Mr. Prongs would like to share his disgust for the Hufflepuff who willingly hangs out with the slimy git named Snivellus._

One would think that James knew she'd find the map. What he wouldn't say to her face would be scrawled on the map.

_Mr. Padfoot would like to claim that Hogwarts would be better off with her inside the disappearing-step staircase._

A wry grin lit upon her cheeks as she ground her teeth, and Hermione stared down at the name of the man she once knew. This man— _this boy_ —however, hadn’t spent twelve years in Azkaban growing up by himself, so she had no qualms about putting her past aside to see him in a different light. Hell, he was a different person in her eyes, and the only things that were similar were their names and their manes.

Breathing in through her nose, she then held her breath and counted to three before she slowly exhaled. Returning to the map, her eyelashes fluttered about as she brushed strands of her hair back.

_Mr. Wormtail would like to bid goodbye to the short creepy one._

A harsh bark escaped her lips as she straightened her back. If being creepy kept Peter away, then she'd be creepy until he stayed the fuck away.

Though she'd been expecting something similar to the insults Severus had the misfortune of reading, she certainly hadn't expected an indirect death threat from dear old Sirius Black. If she read his message correctly, he wanted her gone—dead to be exact, and she wondered if the Marauders had to write their messages onto the map. Would they have written it all at once or separately? How would it work? Did the others know about Sirius' tendencies?

The unlikely event of the map being sentient and knowing its owners well enough to speak on their behalf escaped her mind as it'd been shoved to the corner of her mind—she didn’t think the map would be sentient, not like the Sorting Hat, considering it didn't have a mind of its own (but if it did, then she wanted to know).

On another note, she couldn't help but wonder if James had an unhealthy obsession with Severus like Harry had an unhealthy obsession with Malfoy while Malfoy had an unhealthy obsession with the Weasleys— _Red hair, and a hand-me-down-robe? You must be a Weasley_ , she repeated from that time her friends spoke up about their meeting on the train to Hogwarts (it was a rather weak imitation of the boy, but it didn't matter).

As she rolled the map up, she watched the ink steadily dissipate, and against her heart-felt wish of keeping it—ended up returning it to the spot she'd found it hiding in.

 _The tension between those pairs,_ she mused as she made her way up to the seventh floor, _they'd start a wizarding duel if they were locked inside a room._

_"I'm telling you I lost it around here!"_

_"Yeah? Well where is it then?"_

The whispers and hisses grated her ears as she rounded the corner, and she held her breath as she passed them without making eye contact. It was clear to say they were searching for their map, and though she knew its location, she gulped the words down and ignored the urge to spill. _Why would I waste my breath when they're not going to thank me if I tell them?_ she snorted as they disappeared down the hall.

 _Wrong turn._ If they couldn’t summon their map, then they were going to have a rough and tough time trying to find it. _Sometimes, geniuses c_ _an forget._


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 2018-05-31

There was a time where Voldemort would've been aware of his horcruxes being destroyed, but this time—this Voldemort (as far as they knew) hadn't found the necessity to ward his horcruxes.

Since they destroyed the ring and the diary, what remained was the cup, the locket, the diadem, and the snake.

It was simple to deduce that Voldemort’s soul split into six—the seventh had yet to be born.

Since Severus didn't want to wait for the Potters to die, and Hermione didn’t want to kill her friend should that time ever arrive—they figured they'd destroy the ones they did find even if they didn't know exactly where it'd be hidden behind.

Though they returned to change the past, it was easy for the two to get sidetracked—there were too many variables they couldn't quite counteract.


	33. Chapter 33

There was absolutely no indication or warning that it would've happened, but it did, and now she was left staring at the flickering flames.

The Hufflepuff Basement (hell, the castle itself) wasn't protected from flammable materials.

It wouldn't have mattered—if only her stupid roommate hadn't brought the house down. Granted, the ceiling didn't cave on them, their floorboards still held them up, and they were relatively unharmed by the protection of the house elves (she really wanted to know just how their magic differed from witches and wizards), but there was nowhere for them to go.

_"Where will we stay?"_

_"There's not enough room!"_

_"What'll happen to us?"_

_"My things!"_

_"You mean our things!"_

_"I don't care about your things—my things!"_

It wasn't really chaos—she'd seen and heard worse, but they really were making a big enough commotion because they drew the other students out from their house.

Professor Sprout had gathered them all outside in the hall, and she was taking roll call when Professor Slughorn joined her with his striped nightcap.

_"Is everybody present?"_

_"I'm counting them now."_

Hermione dipped her head down as she clenched her jaw and stretched the back of her shoulders to put a stop to her yawn. She'd been woken up by her roommates' echoing scream, and then she'd been shoved up, right, and down, so the only thing she'd taken with her before the fire consumed their den was her wand.

A tap on her shoulder had her shifting around to squint at a familiarly raised brow.

"It's a wonder the castle hasn't burned down," Severus murmured in greeting.

Air whooshed into her mouth as her ears popped and drowned out the sound—it was all temporary, however, and she soon looked down. "House elves," she explained before she muffled another yawn.

"Hm—"

_"Children, may I have your attention? If your last name is between A to I, then I ask that you follow Professor Thomas. If your last name is between J to R, then I ask that you follow Professor Flitwick. If your last name is between S to Z, then I ask that you follow Professor Slughorn. They'll be your temporary house until Hufflepuff Basement is restored. Prefects, please lead the way. You are all dismissed."_

Professor Thomas was the Head of Gryffindor.

Hermione looked down at her robes to see that her crest had changed from the badger to her lion.

"You did say you'd still be a Gryffindor on the inside, but being one on the outside would complete the foolish lion's look," Severus murmured before he nudged her in the direction of the Gryffindor Prefect.

Hermione stumbled her way over to the rest of the Hufflepuffs bearing Gryffindor robes, and she blinked back her delight to follow the familiar steps she'd taken for seven years straight. _I'm back,_ she whispered as she stepped through the entrance and breathed in lion pride.

"Welcome to Gryffindor, temporary lions. You'll be bunking with those in your year, so if you've got complaints we'll listen, but there's nothing that'll change where you'll stay unless Headmaster Dumbledore announces the change in your temporary stay."

_I'm back._

The Prefect led them up to where they would stay, and Hermione was more or less awake until she reached the bed she'd share with some girl from Gryffindor— _I might just thank Elisa for burning the den down_ —and she fell asleep right where she'd lain down.


	34. Chapter 34

If there was anything she missed (among many), then it'd be the proof that 'Hermione Granger' existed.

What was she thinking by obliviating her parents?

She couldn't change the past—the future?—but she could take comfort in the memories she had of her parents.

Though they didn't go out much, when they did—

Sometimes, she'd forget what her parents looked like, and even the sounds of their voices were lost to her. It boggled her every time she struggled to recall things from long ago, and she feared that one day—someday, she'll forget it all.

"You're out in the open."

"There's nowhere to hide out here."

"They'll be fine—we won't be if we stay any longer than necessary."

"I wanted to see how they were doing."

As long as they didn't see her she'd be fine, or as fine as she could be without a proper hold tying her down.

Some things just didn't make sense—

"The train won't wait for us if we don't hurry. Are you done stalking your family?"

"What once was won't return—I can only hope."

And so, they left the suburb, and the family of three were none the wiser about their young visitors.


	35. Chapter 35

“You want me to put  _this_ on?”

“Yes. It’ll revitalize your complexion—according to the back.”

“I’ve got potions to brew.”

“And this’ll take only 15 minutes—your potions won’t be ready for another half hour.”

Try something new, he’d said, and now look what she’d gotten into. “Can you not find some _other_ who’ll partake in your Muggle activity?”

“It’s a face mask, Severus. It won’t harm you.”  _If you put it on right it won’t._  “Besides, you’re the only one here who can try this with me.”

“Lily lives nearby. You can go ask her.”

“I overheard the Ravenclaws—they said she’ll remain at the castle for the break, so it’s physically impossible for me to go ask her while she’s in Scotland.”

“—must you drag me into this?”

“Yes, I must.”

“How would I benefit from joining you in putting on that Muggle abomination?”

“Severus, just try it—the only downside is that you’ll be missing out on adding life to your complexion.”

“I see—then my complexion, as you’ve mentioned, shall remain dead—there will be no _life_ added to it.”

“ _Why_ are you so stubborn?”

 

-

 

“—a bloody fool—how did you talk me into this?”

“You can read a book while we wait—that’s what I planned to do in the first place.”

“If all you were going to—why did you not do this yourself?”

“Simple really—I wanted you to suffer with me.”

“Then you should have picked something else to try.”

“For Salazar's sake, just pick the nearest book to you _and read_.”

 

-

 

The sight of Severus sleeping while wearing a face mask—it was an image she’d remember for life, and they still had some minutes before it was time to take off their masks.

Muggle items really were useful at times like these, but Severus would kill her if he discovered the pictures she took of him while he’d fallen asleep.

Although he didn’t look any younger than when he was awake, considering how they’d taken a de-aging potion when they returned (that was ages ago, however)—well, he was a good number younger than she was used to seeing.

 _Great, now I feel guilty for taking pictures of him._ But still, she wouldn’t delete them—it would be dangerous (for her camera), but she’d hide the fact and hope that in the future, he’d decide it’d be too much trouble to make her get rid of the evidence.

That is—assuming she’d still be living in the future.

Would she cease to exist once her younger self grew? Would she be torn in time? Two of her existed on the same plane—would their souls combine into either one of them? How would it work? The theories she’d read about—none of them could relate. Rather, maybe she hadn’t been looking long enough and far enough. Perhaps she was looking in the wrong place?

“Oh, it’s time.”

With her camera safely stored away from Severus' eyes, she shook her companion awake.

Severus woke to seeing her pat at her face after she’d pulled the mask off. “Don’t tell me I have to do that as well.”

“You don’t.” It would be amusing to see him do it too, but watching him put the face mask on and smooth it out while keeping his scowl to himself—yeah, what already happened sufficed for her. _Well, I won’t be the one to say it anyway._

The truth—how would she know if Lily remained at the castle or not? Also, it’d be odd for the Ravenclaws to speak about the Gryffindor’s plan for the break when none of them were familiar with the girl—much less friends with her (and she would know—the walls had ears, and she was privy to the rumour mill courtesy of her dorm mates).

“Are we done here?”

“We are—you can return to your potions now.”

“It’s counterproductive.”

“Your point is—?”

He left without another word.

Either way, she counted it as her win even though they weren’t competing at anything.


	36. Chapter 36

It seriously didn't make sense. There was absolutely nothing there, but a jolt of pain sprung whenever she blinked.

If only she had access to the Muggle internet—she'd at least have answers to something.

"Aren't you just imagining things?"

"I am not."

"On closer look, there's a small bump 'neath your eyelid."

"Where?"

"The—top lid I believe."

"Do you think I should see Madame Pomfrey?"

"It's just a tiny bump—nothing harmful. Don't see why not though."

"I'll go during dinner then."

"Why so late? We don't have classes anyway."

"I've got plans before noon."

"Seeing that Slytherin?"

"Elisa—if you want to join us, you could always just ask."

"Great, I just need to ask him about the Potions assignment before we hand it in."

"We were assigned that ages ago. What have you been doing this whole time?"

"Can I skip that?"

"Just—just go. We're meeting Severus by the lake."

"Did I interrupt something?"

"No."

"—if you say so."

"I know so, so go."


	37. Chapter 37

It was official — Severus Snape had finally lost it. His sanity, or rather, what remained of his sanity had zipped off somewhere while they were nursing their drinks in The Three Broomsticks.

It’d have been fine and all, if only the Marauders hadn’t wanted to stir trouble over nothing.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hermione mused as she swirled her drink just listening to the ice cubes bop around in melodic play.

“—I’m not a coward.”

“And I never said you were, but I’m making sure—” she huffed beneath her breath, “because there’s no turning back from this and you know it.”

“What’s this?” Sirius crowed, “Afraid are you Snivellus? Gonna hide behind your witch?” he sneered, “But wait—you don’t have one!”

“Do enlighten me—how much butter have you dolled yourself in?” Severus drawled as he slid his drink to the side just out of reach in the very case things went awry.

Remus, who’d been keeping his palm on Sirius’ shoulder, tightened his grip and pulled lightly to disturb the man’s balance. “Wormtail’s waiting by the table,” he muttered as he shook his head.

“But Moony—”

“Sirius.”

“You think I’m gonna let ol’ Snivellus here walk all over me when he thinks he’ll get away with it?”

“It’s not worth the trouble.”

“Running away with your tail behind your back, Black? I see you’ve got him tamed, Lupin.”

“Severus, why do you do this.” Hermione grumbled as she looked away. There’d be no point for her to watch their continuous exchange — what good will it do when they weren’t willing to leave things be?

“We’re leaving, Padfoot.”

“No.”

“Sirius, there’s too many eyes watching, and you don’t want another detention, do you?”

“—fine, but don’t think this is over, Snivellus. You better watch your back if it’s the last thing you do.”

_Well—at least no wands were drawn,_  Hermione mused as she slid the drink back to her friend (if she could rightly call him one now that they’d been stuck together for some odd months).

“I wouldn’t have lost if we’d gone through with it.”

“I’m sure you would’ve drunk the establishment empty.”

“What do you say to a walk around Flourish and Blotts?”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t presume, Hermione. We’d established that before the trip.”

“Hm—finish your drink and then we’ll leave.”


End file.
